


Spellbound

by pretense



Series: The Guilds 'Verse [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Role-Playing Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-20 15:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1515914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretense/pseuds/pretense
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because there is no other explanation as to why their Huntsman is acting the way he does at the loss of his Caster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Before reading, please see the [guilds!verse tag](http://tajimastrictly.tumblr.com/tagged/guilds!verse/chrono) for context. Thank you!
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters nor the gameplay.
> 
>  
> 
> _This work is can also be found on fanfiction.net,[here](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10295693/1/)._

"Where's my Shin-chan?!"

The door bangs open, announcing the arrival of one very agitated Huntsman.

Miyaji chokes on his ginger ale, coughing and wheezing until Kimura takes pity on him and smacks him on the back to clear his airway. In the meantime, Takao marches over to the head of the table.

"Where's my Shin-chan?" Takao demands, eyes narrowed with barely repressed panic.

Ootsubo pulls off his gauntlets, setting them aside as he turns to face Takao. Behind him, a regal orange banner proclaims ' _Persistent and Tireless_ ' - the guild's motto. "You're looking for Midorima?"

"Who else?!" Takao puffs up his cheeks. He thrust out one hand holding a strip of white tape. "I found this in his room."

"You got into his room?" Miyaji asks, brows furrowed. On the side, one of their healers whispers, "Isn't that  _used_?" in reference to the tape.

"Yeah." Takao rounds on their lead Shaman. "This was the only clue I can find! And it's  _useless_ because I don't even  _have_  a Tracker Hound!" Muttering to himself, Takao adds, "I  _knew_ I should've gotten that instead of the Screech Falcon."

"Takao, calm down," Ootsubo cuts in, gesturing to the empty seat on his left side. "Take a seat."

"How did you get into Midorima's room?" Miyaji leans over, ginger ale forgotten. "It's got like a thousand wards on it. I can't even touch the doorknob without lightning crackling outside."

Takao snorts, "I have a key, duh. But don't distract me, damn it. I want to know where Shin-chan went." He crosses his arms over his chest, curling the white tape around his fingers.

"Well if you don't know anything, then neither do we," says Kimura.

"He's been gone for two days!" Takao exclaims, resisting from slamming a fist on the table. Instead he starts winding the tape around his hand. "Aren't you guys even a tiny bit worried?"

"He goes off on his own all the time," Miyaji begins, stopping short to correct himself. "Well he goes off  _with you_." He nods in Takao's direction.

"Exactly." Takao sits up straighter. "I went out the other day ago to check up on Amadeus at the Pet Center over at Daikaran District -  _she's doing fine, by the way, thanks for asking_. And ever since I came back last night there's been no trace of my Shin-chan anywhere." His shoulders slump a little. "His room hasn't been occupied for at least a day when I checked in on it this morning."

Kimura blinks. "Uh, it's already late afternoon. If you thought him missing this morning, why are you only coming to us now?"

"Because I looked for him," Takao answers like it was obvious. "In and around the fort, and when I cleared the whole place I searched outside. I stopped before I left the city perimeters because I haven't packed for an expedition."

"Expedition?" Miyaji burst out laughing. "Oh man, you have got it so bad, ahaha!" He slaps a hand on Kimura's chest. "Hey, gimme a pineapple, I want to smash this little shit's face in."

Takao bristles. "It's no laughing matter! Shin-chan's missing!"

"He isn't," Ootsubo speaks up before things could make a turn for the worse. This was one of those kinds of conversations that make him feel really old. "He excused himself yesterday because he was going on a quest."

"A quest? And he didn't tell me?" Takao pulls the tape tighter around his palm.

"If you ask me, it looks like he timed it to when you weren't around," Miyaji jeers. "Maybe he got tired of you always hanging around him, haha."

"That's real funny, Miyaji. Haha. Really…"

"Oi." Kimura nudges the Shaman to quiet him, Takao's eyes were shadowed, fist clenched tight. Miyaji purses his lips, wondering if he'd gone too far. He only ever means his jokes in good humor but damn if Takao is seriously going to get emotional about being left by Midorima. There was a time when those two didn't get along but ever since they got paired up, they've become inseparable. Miyaji would only ever admit it when inebriated but Takao and Midorima's perfect combination was the offensive key that the Kings of the East needed to cement their claim of being (one of) the very best.

"Midorima expressly said that he's supposed to take the quest alone or his efforts will be invalidated," Ootsubo points out, setting a hand on Takao's shoulder to shake the boy out of his gloom. "He also said to tell you not to worry. I believe his exact words were ' _Don't let Takao slack off in training just because I'm away, no da yo.'_ "

"He did?" Takao perks up a little, half-smiling at the Gran Crusader's mimicry of their Caster. "Yeah, that sounds just like my Shin-chan… B-But wait - Why didn't you say anything in the first place?!"

"Well, you never asked," Ootsubo counters, chuckling. "You just gone and went gaga looking for him by yourself."

Takao colors pink. "It's not like I can help it. We're supposed to be partners."

"Partners. Heh. So that's what they're calling it these days." Miyaji feels reassured in teasing again once Takao's mood had lightened up.

"You should trust your partner," Kimuro advises. "Midorima will be back before you know it."

Takao manages a smile. "I'll do that. Thanks, guys." He pushes off his chair, heading out with a wave and an excuse of resting for a bit in his room.

With Takao gone, Miyaji turns his attention back to his drink, swirling the liquid around. "So what kind of quest did our precious Caster undertake?"

"A class upgrade," Ootsubo answers, grinning to himself. "He wanted it to be a surprise."

"For Takao?" Kimura asks, amusedly picking up his own drink.

"Man, those two are really something," Miyaji comments, draining his cup. As soon as the Belar System Upgrade takes place, he will personally see that those stupid kids get their asses hitched. He swears it on his class as a Shaman.

* * *

_Schlak_.

 _Schlak_.

 _Schlak_.

Takao drops to the ground, dust rising at his feet. Straightening up, he brushes his bangs away from his eyes, narrowing them against the bright sunshine. A Golden Sniper Hawk swoops overhead, circling thrice before landing on Takao's outstretched arm. The talons dig into his arm guard but Takao doesn't flinch - not anymore. His posture is perfect, bearing the additional weight with practiced ease.

The target boards lining the training strip all sport bull's-eye hits. That's his training regimen done for the day. Takao hooks his crossbow on the strap around his waist, barrel now empty. He reaches out to pet Amadeus with his free hand.

"You recovered well," Takao praised the hawk, grin widening when it affectionately nipped his finger. "What's that?" He lifted his familiar closer, lending an ear to it and laughing when Amadeus nudged his cheek with her beak. "Oh, you're missing Shin-chan?" Takao's eyes gleam as he strolls right down the center of the canopy of trees leading the way back to their fort proper. "I miss him, too. But he'll be back soon."

Amadeus chirps, which Takao takes as an agreement.

There are no Guild Events coming up so Midorima's absence isn't of much consequence, though Takao has been approached once or twice by their other Casters looking for the guy; Karasuya, in particular, wanted to borrow some of Midorima's spellbooks and Takao had to turn her down. He may have the key to Midorima's (apparently warded-off) room but he knows the guy would freak if anything is out of place when he returned.

It's been four days now and the initial panic (which had subsided after his talk with Ootsubo) is rising back up. Takao whistles as he walks, weighing his options now that training is done with. If Midorima were here, ending individual practice early meant having more time to rehearse combined attacks. Well, boohoo, Midorima isn't here right now to nag on him so…

Takao swallows the thing that had lodged itself in his throat. His Shin-chan will come back -  _come home_ \- to him. That's the truth he holds in his heart and he can't afford to doubt that. He'll train and train and he'll impress the Caster with his amazing new skills the second he returns! Yeah, that's a good idea.

Setting his gaze on the hawk on his arm, Takao smiles. "What do you say we do another round?" Golden eyes gleam back at him and Takao nods. "Ah, but this time I'm thinking we should get Bragi to join us. That'll be more fun, right?"

Amadeus stretches out her wings.

"Okay, let's go get him."

* * *

Day five and Takao finally caves. Up on the East Tower Roost, he goes about tying little notes on the feet of their carrier pigeons. Holding the gray-feathered animal with both hands, Takao walks over to the window where dark clouds in the distance foretell of nasty weather to come. Rubbing the pigeon's forehead with his thumb, Takao gives his instructions.

"Fly to Seirin. Look for the Rune Sage Aida. She's the guild leader, so you'd probably find her in their main hall." The pigeon nips at his thumb in understanding and Takao releases it to the skies. "Don't come back without a reply, okay?"

The door creaks open and Takao watches a petite healer walk in, scroll held to her chest. Her jaw drops upon seeing the state of the room, downy feathers drifting down the empty perches. "W-What the… They're all gone!"

"Oh, hey, Ramune," Takao greets, jumping down to the lower floor. "The carriers are all out. Sorry. Something important?" He nods at the scroll in her hands.

"Yeah," Ramune admits, lips twisting wryly. "I was doing inventory on our ingredients and these are a list of things we need."

"That's a lot stuff," Takao notes the thickness of the roll. "I don't think a single carrier could've carried that."

"I was planning to use two but…" Ramune shrugs. "Since they're all out, there's nothing I can do. When will they be back?"

Takao scratches the back of his neck. "Soon, I hope." At seeing the dejected look on his team mate, Takao decides to lend a hand. "If it's really important, I can let you borrow Bragi?"

"Your familiar?" Ramune raises a brow at the offer. "Isn't he for battle-use only?"

"Well, yes, that is his primary purpose buuut since we're not doing anything for the day, it's better to have him stretch his wings than do nothing," Takao explains with a smile. "The Apothecary's isn't very far, in any case."

"It's just within the city border, close to the forest grounds."

"Okay, then." Takao puts two fingers on his lips, whistling shrilly. A few seconds later, the sound of great wings reach their ears. A Screecher Falcon descends on the perch nearest to Takao, dark eyes trained on his master. "Hey, Bragi." Takao runs a finger under the bird's neck and beak. "I need you to do a little errand for Ramune, here. You know Ramune, right?"

While Bragi takes his time in scrutinizing the healer,Takao pulls out a leather sheath with a strap from the cabinet nearby. The falcon remains steady as Takao secures the straps on him. "I'm giving you a mission. Bragi. Ramune's scroll needs to be delivered to The Apothecary's stat."

Ramune hands the item list over and Takao seals it within the sheath Bragi's sporting. Offering his arm to his familiar, Takao delivers the falcon to the window, feeding him a treat from his pocket before sending him off.

"Thank you for lending me Bragi," Ramune bows. With business finished, they head out of the room and down the tower's winding stairs. "If you don't mind me asking… I am very curious as to what purpose you set all of our carriers…"

"Oh,  _that_ , haha. Well, you know." Takao has the decency to blush. When Ramune says nothing, Takao is forced to elaborate. "I sent out letters asking people if they've seen Shin-chan. I've been holding out on the idea since Ootsubo told me not to worry, so I decided to wait on it. It's been five days and I don't think - it's driving me nuts! Not knowing how Shin-chan's doing out there in the cruel, cruel world..." Takao gave a dramatic sigh. "D'you think I'm overreacting?"

"I'm a Healer, not a shrink," Ramune reminds him kindly. "Nonetheless, let me give you some advice; quid pro quo since you so nicely let Bragi deliver my supplies request."

"Go on, then."

Ramune smiles. "Five days is the mere average for a B-rank quest - depending on the scope, of course. A-rank expeditions would take a week at most; Midorima likes taking on high-level quests, right?"

"Yeah, that's Shin-chan, for you; always going for the grand prize. Taking on A-ranks by himself, though - that's..."  _Suicide_. Takao frowns at his own conclusion. Midorima would  _never._

"You underestimate your partner," Ramune comments.

"No I don't! I believe that Shin-chan's the strongest!" Takao defends, hands planted on his hips. "Most of the time I'm…" He sighs, shaking his head to dispel the negativity. "I'm just really worried; he goes for the A-ranks yes but not without me."  _Never without me_. "Taking this long to return, it gets me anxious. And angry."

Ramune hums. "In any case, he'd call for help when he needs it, yes?"

"If his pride doesn't get in the way," Takao sniffs. "Ah, I swear. The second I see him I'll punch him for making me feel like this."

"Like what?"

"Like a damn widow," Takao pouts.

* * *

A chirping call brings Takao's attention away from his snack. Lounging at the armory with Miyaji and a couple of their snipers, Takao reaches out to the carrier pigeon flying in his direction. A note is tied in dark blue ribbon to the bird's right leg. Taking his message, Takao offers the pigeon a bite from his sweet bread. Another hoot of gratitude and the bird flies off in the direction of the roosting tower.

"What's that?" Hoshiko points the gun he's cleaning at the note.

"Maybe it's a love letter," Miyaji cackles as he finishes off the last strip of dried meat.

Takao unrolls the scrap of paper, spending less than a second in reading its contents before tucking it away. "Another dead end, that's what." He viciously takes a bite of his food. Damn it. Momoi's was the last one and he was hoping - given her credentials - that she'd know something,  _anything_  about where Midorima had gone. It's been a week, that was Midorima's time limit, and now Takao is seriously considering going after him - wherever that is. It's highly improbable for Midorima to get anywhere without passing at least one of their frie -  _acquaintances,_  a prim voice hisses.

Takao groans, even in the recesses of his mind, his lost Caster refuses to let him get away with anything. Isn't hearing voices in your head one of the first signs of losing your mind?

"Are you still going on about Midorima?" Miyaji pulls off his hat and starts scratching his head. "Come on, Takao, you have  _got_  to stop stressing on this. You're making  _me_  stress out and that's not good for my health. What would you do if my hair starts turning white?"

"Personally, I think that would be an improvement," Takao answers half-mockingly.

Miyaji scowls. "One of these days I'll put a curse on you, brat. Just you wait."

"Is it really so worrisome that Midorima's not around?" Hoshiko asks, setting down his cleaning brush and his pistol. At the pointed stare he gets from Takao, the sniper backs away. "I - I mean, for all we know, he could be on his way back, eh?"

Takao wipes at the crumbs surrounding his mouth with the back of his hand. "He better. Or so help me, I'll take my job class literally and hunt him down."

"How romantic," Miyaji deadpans. "But before that, you've a string of qualifiers to assess."

"I've still got a couple of minutes," Takao pushes off his seat. "And if I remember correctly, Kimura was always five minutes late during my tryouts."

"Well he's a bad example," Hoshiko shrugs. "Also, we need some good Archers... And a couple of Scouts wouldn't be so bad. Clerics, too."

"Yeah, yeah, I read the memo." Takao picks up his crossbow and a quiver full of steel-tipped arrows. Slinging the quiver-strap over his top, Takao whines, "Man, why do I have to be paired up with Karasuya for this?"

"I don't see the problem. She adores you," Miyaji points out.

" _That's_  the problem." Shaking the dust off his shoes, Takao waves goodbye. "I can't ditch this jig at all; she'll find me no matter where I hide. Blood Mages. Ugh."

"... I don't think it's her job class that's the problem," Hoshiko whispers to Miyaji.

Takao has been working on his agility and he puts it to test in running to the venue; he reaches Training Ground B with five minutes to spare. As expected his co-proctor is already there, standing with perfect posture, wand at the ready. "Yo, Karasuya," Takao calls out.

The mage turns towards him and gives a curt bow. "We'll start in approximately four point thirty two minutes, darling. Please check that the courses are ready."

Tamping down a cold shiver, Takao salutes. "Yes, ma'am." He jumps down the podium, earning himself a couple of admiring looks from the hopeful candidates they would be testing this morning. He gives encouraging nods to them as he goes around checking the targets and other training paraphernalia. There are at least a hundred applicants and Takao is pretty sure this will take all day.

_Ding. Dong. Ding._

The clocktower strikes nine and Takao hurries back to the podium. Karasuya moves forward, raising her voice. "Welcome to the preliminary auditions of our noble guild. The Kings of the East is renowned for our valiant and relentless campaigns for success so you understand that we will only take in the best. I am Karasuya and this is Takao," she defers to her partner with a gloved hand. Takao gives a quick nod to their audience. "We will be your proctors for this day."

"To start with, I want everyone to group themselves by job type." Takao takes command, just like they rehearsed. "Swordsmen on the far left, followed by the Acolytes. After that it's Mages, Archers, Scouts…" Once the groups have been clearly established, Takao continues. "Alright, now we'll start with the melee tryouts; physical fitness, the basics. Everyone but the Archers please retreat to the sidelines but don't get mixed-up. Scouts will be next, then Swordsmen."

True to Takao's presumption, the assessment lasts until sundown. Karasuya announces the names of those who will be coming back the next day for their final evaluation under the guild leader Ootsubo and his second-in-command, Kimura. Once the applicants are gone, Takao and Karasuya go about cleaning up the grounds, separating the reusable items from those utterly decimated by the more exuberant aspirants.

"You were pretty strict with the applicants today," Karasuya hums, waving her staff. The broken remains of a training dummy crumbles and joins the earth. "Is anything the matter, dear?"

"Must be one of my off days," Takao shrugs, plucking out arrows from the target board. "It happens. Good job with the psych eval, by the way. Glad we rooted out that Assassin before it was too late."

"What can I say? I have an eye for those sort of things," Karasuya smiles. "You've improved your agility and accuracy, Takao. Pity you never use poison arrows."

"Just numbing the enemy is enough." Takao tries to sound unaffected but he jumps back shouting when Karasuya appears beside him. "Don't  _do_  that! Jeez!"

"I don't understand why you don't like me, darling," Karasuya moans, long hair falling over her shoulder as she tilts her head. "I know you like girls. And I know you like magic." With an elegant flick of the wrist, Karasuya has the tip of her wand under Takao's chin. "So tell me."

"Really, Karasuya, I'm flattered and all but" Takao directs the jewel-tipped staff away from his face with a careful finger. "I don't see you that way. Or in any way. At all. Can we just drop this? Like, forever?"

"Hmph." Pouting, Karasuya draws her weapon closer, leaning on it. "Fine. But don't come running to me when he dumps you. I don't do pity sex. No. Da. Yo." If the blinker wasn't covering her eyes, Takao is sure she would've winked. Instead, Karasuya lingers for a second before the shadows at her feet envelop her and then she's nowhere in sight.

Takao grits his teeth. Damn it, damn it, damn it to hell!

* * *

His breath fogs his vision, pinpricks of cold puncture his skin and immobilize him. Takao shivers.

_Honestly. Bare midriffs? You're just asking for hypothermia, aren't you? Such impractical clothing._

"Ah, shut up, Shin-chan," Takao huffs, collapsing once he gets to the base of a particularly tall and broad Hyperion Tree. The ground is hard and sheeted with fine ice, elevated roots providing poor shelter to the huntsman that seeks it. Takao winces, curling into himself for warmth but keeping his left leg stretched out.

A horrid gash cuts horizontally along the instep of his left foot, boot long gone. Takao bends over to inspect it, peeling away the skin with a grimace. Bile rises up his throat but Takao forcefully swallows it down; it's all so red, so very red with life. He sees layers of muscle and crisscrossing veins, the bone underneath covered by thin pinkish tissue. Feeling nauseous, Takao closes the flap of skin over his wound; vacantly, he wonders why he can't feel anything from it.

His travel pack is missing and so is his crossbow. If not for the regular hoots coming from above, Takao would have considered himself a dead man. He closes his eyes. There's nothing to fear with Amadeus watching over him. Bragi is sure to come back with help soon. He has faith in his familiars. They would never…

Takao wakes to low, predatory growling. He keeps still, ears straining to hear more and gauge his situation.

They sound hungry. A group of maybe two or three. Snow crunches under their careful steps.

He's surrounded.

Silver eyes adjust to the darkness, three other pairs are trained on him - savage and focused. Takao braces himself. He looks down at his injured foot, trying to get it to move.

Big toe. Come on, you damn thing. Move, twitch,  _do something_!

Takao's heart is pounding in his chest but his most basic instinct tells him to never show fear. Either he's really good at conditioning himself or he can't feel his body anymore. Takao meets his predators' gaze, not even flinching when the moonlight catches on feral canines.

His damn foot needs to fucking move right the fuck now.

The wolves inch closer. At this altitude they can only be a pack of Rukimacas. Untameable and unforgiving. At any other situation, Takao would be fawning over such species. Being in the position of tasty dinner changes a man's perspective.

There's two on his left and one on his right. Amadeus would get torn to shreds should he order a counter attack. What to do? What to do?

Takao flattens his back against the tree, gingerly folding his legs closer. His insides feel like they've frozen up. The Rukimacas advance on him, pungent puffs of cold breath coming nearer, nearer… The packleader growls, three feet away from Takao.

A gust of cold wind whips at his face. Takao finally feels panic. "Amadeus, no!"

Bright green light parts the darkness. Swirling with hot energy, it throws the wolves away from Takao but they're not the kind that retreats from a fight. The light fades and the wolves dive towards its source, teeth bared in a bloodthirsty growl.

The high screech that resounds is familiar. Takao watches as a wolf flies back, the talons of a Golden Sniper Hawk digging into its shoulder. Two more blasts of green energy come from outside his periphery but his focus remains on his familiars.

Bragi swoops in, dark as the night. He and Amadeus show no mercy the poor animal that thought their master as prey.

It's a brief encounter and the melted snow mingles with spilt blood.

Heavy and measured steps reach his ears. Takao looks up to find moonlight reflected in rectangular lenses.

_Why do you never listen to me?_

* * *

A storm has come to the Kings of the East.

"What did you do to him?" Kimura whispers to the Blood Mage across the breakfast table.

Karasuya tilts her head. "Me? He won't let me do  _anything_  to him."

"Then somebody please explain why he looks like the undead," Ramune sets her tray down, stealing a worried look at the huntsman at the end of the table before taking her seat.

"I heard some pets just waste away once their master is gone," Karasuya says, smiling as she spears her fork through an apple slice.

"You shut your trap."

They look over at Takao who's glaring (weakly) at them from beneath disheveled bangs. "I'm fine," he mutters. "I just didn't get enough sleep last night."

"Have a pineapple!"

Without warning, the said fruit is slammed down on the table. It would've been fine but Miyaji (accidentally? purposely?) uses too much force and smashes the fruit to pieces - pulp and juice flying everywhere but mostly spraying on Takao's face. The huntsman's expression twists in a groan but he makes no sound and does nothing else.

Kimura stands up, indignant. "Miyaji! Look what you've done!"

The shaman righteously plops down on the seat opposite Takao. "I hate rain and I hate seeing grumpy faces so early in the morning. Do the math." Thunder rumbles and Kimura defeatedly takes his seat, thankful at the very least that Ootsubo isn't present to witness this.

"I have a cure for being under the weather," Ramune states, looking at Miyaji. "Just tell me if you need a boost."

"How about heartache?" Miyaji asks, jerking his thumb at Takao. "You got a cure for that?"

"Can everybody just get off my case?" Takao props himself up on his elbow, wiping a hand down his face to dry away the fruit juice. The steady beat of raindrops underline his tired words, the somber air cloaking his defeated form. "It's been a bad week and this stupid storm means we're all going to be cooped up in here for a while. So can you all just stop-"

Outside, lightning disperses mid-crackle.

"Dude." Miyaji straightens up in slow-motion, wide eyes looking out the windows where cheery sunlight shines through. Everyone else in the dining hall stops, wondering at the complete turnover of the atmosphere.

"I - I haven't done anything," Ramune whispers.

"Then, who…" Kimura's question stands unfinished as Takao promptly jumps out of his seat.

The whole room watches the previously lifeless huntsman's energized display of throwing the doors open and storming out.

"I knew there was a reason I brought two," Miyaji quips, patting the lumpy sack tied to his belt before scrambling to follow Takao.

Sunlight spills on the marble floor, warm summer air drifting in from the open doors. Takao skids to a halt just in front of the new arrival. There is no mistaking that superior mien and those arresting green eyes.

All the words Takao has thought of saying gets swept away. He can only stare - in awe (in love.) Heat fills his body, seemingly absorbing the new and powerful aura emanating from his partner. Takao could cry but not right now; he goes for a smile.

"Shin-chan~!"

Midorima barely keeps his composure when Takao throws himself at him. He staggers back a step, somehow managing to keep both of them upright. The arms around him squeezes the breath out of his lungs; he finds that he cannot complain upon noticing the huntsman's own breathless state. Takao's face is buried in his chest and for the longest second he fears that the other man would hear his accelerated heartbeat.

Takao breathes in deep, the texture of fine cloth against his cheek, Midorima's warmth seeping through. His stupid Shin-chan is alright. They're alright. Takao feels giddy, he sways a little, dizzy in relief.

"You're… drenched… in pineapple juice." Midorima wrinkles his nose at Takao.

"Yep!" Takao grins in reply. "Miyaji smashed a whole fruit in front of my face at breakfast."

"You're gonna leave a stain on my clothes." A corner of his lips is quirked down but Midorima's tone lacks his usual scolding. He picks a chunk of pineapple from Takao's hair and flicks it away.

Takao's eyes sparkle and he squeezes Midorima one more time. "I always help in doing laundry, anyway. Heheh, where'd you snatch up this get up, Shin-chan?"

"It is requisite to reflect my advancement in job class," Midorima answers with a perfunctory adjustment of his glasses. "The quest took longer than expected" His eyes drop to Takao for a second, conveying a heartfelt apology "but it was very much worth the effort."

"Uh-huh, you can control the weather now, right?" Takao beams.

"N-Not exactly." Midorima's face tinges pink, voice dropping as he explains. "I was actually trying to cast a drying spell because I can't come in here soaking wet and I guess I just… overdid it… a little."

"You sure did, Mr. High Wizard." Takao laughs, rich and affectionate. Midorima scoffs but doesn't deter him. Strong shoulders quake as Takao subdues his laughter. Pressing his forehead on Midorima's chest, Takao takes a breath to steady himself.

Midorima stills when Takao looks up at him again, his reflection in those all-seeing eyes shows the anxiety he'd been hiding. A hand cups his cheek and Midorima puts all his efforts in keeping his hands to himself. Takao's smile warms his very soul.

"Welcome home, Shin-chan."

* * *

_(Omake)_

Hidden behind a corner, Miyaji struggles to throw his pineapple at the over-affectionate couple by the foyer.

" _Nmgh smmhrrg mrfhii_!"

"Quiet, you," Kimura hisses, keeping one hand clamped over the shaman's mouth and the other around his chest.

" _Brfdhh ssmtts_!  _Khmgrrrh_!" Miyaji wriggles his limbs, trying to get away.

"Sorry," Hoshiko frowns, tightening his grip on Miyaji's arm. "But I can't let you ruin the moment."

"You saw how increasingly devastated Takao has been," Ramune reproves. She dodges an errant foot, grabbing Miyaji by the appendage and holding him down more securely. "Don't make me smash a sleeping potion on your head."

Kimura leans away, getting out of Miyaji's hair. "Oi, Karasuya, what's the update?"

Leaning against the wall, Karasuya lifts her blinker over one eye and takes a peek. "I can tell you what's  _not_  happening: reunion sex." She groans, "Ugh, I hate those two. You're totally within make-out distance -  _what the hell are you waiting for_?"

" _MFFRRHGM_!"


	2. Bonus Chapter

Midorima absolutely refuses to look in Takao's direction. Using his height to his advantage, the wizard pointedly stares the other way.

They've just gotten off patrol duty when Takao suggested they stop by the supermarket for food. Not for them, but for his familiars. Their conversation topic circled around Amadeus and Bragi until Midorima accidentally blurted out something meant to be private.

"W-What?" Takao nearly drops the bag of groceries in his arms. "Hey, Shin-chan, what did you mean…"

"It was nothing," Midorima sniffs, still not looking. "You heard nothing."

"But…" Takao jogs ahead to block Midorima's path. He resolutely stands his ground until the High Wizard is forced to acknowledge him. "Our last mission before you went for a class upgrade was a B-rank Retrieval-type."

"Yes. I was a part of that mission," Midorima sneers, his usual defense mechanism when he can't control the flow of a discussion. "We had to get a Prestige Medallion from the Band of Thebes."

Takao reads beyond his partner's facial expression, linking causes and effects. "Amadeus got injured in the scuffle and I had to take her to Daikaran's Pet Center."

"Obviously, why else would you admit an animal into a clinic." Daylight reflects in Midorima's glasses, hiding his eyes but not the redness on his cheeks.

"When I came back after checking on her, you were gone. You went without telling me." Takao has gotten over his abandonment complex after Midorima promised not to do a repeat performance. He steps closer to Midorima now, scrutinizing the taller man. It wouldn't be out of character for Midorima to aim for a class upgrade, and for all he knew that day's fortune predicted a good chance for Casters, but still… "The real reason you went on the quest is…"

"..." Midorima tries to stare down Takao to no avail. He huffs, grudgingly accepting his defeat. "Amadeus got hurt because my casting wasn't finished on time. We had the perfect plan but because I took so long in gaining momentum, she took damage which I could've easily prevented had I been more… capable." Unable to take the undulating emotion those silver eyes projected at him, Midorima looks away. "It was fortunate that her injury is minor but the worst case scenario would've been…" He grits his teeth. "I just don't want anyone else to suffer for my shortcomings. That's it."

"Shin-chan…"

Frowning deeply, Midorima faces the huntsman. "Now what?"

Takao's expression melts into one of serenity. He extends his right hand, palms up to Midorima. "Let's head back. I'll teach you how to get the birds to eat from the palm of your hand."

After a few seconds of deliberation, Midorima breathes out a long-suffering sigh, taking Takao's hand. "What a useless skill you'll be teaching me."

"It's not useless!" Takao pouts, indignant. "It's a trust exercise!"

"Oh, great." Midorima shortens his strides to match Takao's. "If they like me, they'll eat the crumbs. If not, they'll peck a hole through my palm. Perfect."

Takao squeezes Midorima's hand, the taped fingers secured around his own. "There's no way they'd do that to my Shin-chan~"

"They're birds of prey, Takao. That's what they do."

"They're my babies, how dare you!"


	3. Chapter 2

Never let it be said that the Kings of the East do not know how to party.

Rooted in morals and tradition they may be, certain grand occasions deserve proper celebration.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY OOTSUBO!" proclaims the gold and white banner that's displayed below the one declaring their win of the recently concluded guild battle.

Confetti pops at the Gran Crusader's arrival, showering the room and its occupants in orange, gold, and white. Festive balloons are rooted to each column, succulent dishes fill the long tables in the dining hall. There's a smiling face at every turn.

"Here you go, O' Great Leader!" Miyaji proclaims, coming up behind Ootsubo and dropping a handmade headdress on the man's head. "A crown fit for a king!"

"This is…" Ootsubo shakes his head, chuckling at the distinctive spotted pattern of the stiff material. He rights the lopsided crown, speaking in the jovial tone he reserves for such occasions. "Thank you," he addresses the room. "Thank you all for having such a grand celebration in my honor. But rather than exalt my person, I wish to take this opportunity to hail our noble warriors. Each and every one of you who stand before me deserve praise. We, the Kings of the East, would not have achieved Legendary status if not for your steadfast hearts and the indomitable skills you lend to our cause." Ootsubo raises his goblet. "We are the Kings!"

"Persistent and Tireless!" The responding cheer is deafening as another confetti cannon goes off.

"Let us feast!" Ootsubo declares and he allows himself to be pulled along by Kimura and Miyaji, his most trusted subordinates. They take him to his seat at the head of the middle table, the regal highback chair adorned with balloons and sprouting cheerful ribbons.

Food is overflowing and Takao fills his plate with a portion of everything.

"You're going to make yourself sick," Midorima says, eyeing Takao's smorgasbord dinner with distaste.

"And you're going to miss out on a lot," Takao replies at the sight of Midorima's modest serving. "Here, let me help you with that." He makes to add a scoop of potato salad to the High Wizard's plate but Midorima dodges him.

"No, thank you." Midorima sets his food down once Takao has sufficiently backed away.

"So mean, Shin-chan." Takao twirls his fork, frown morphing into a grin. "But that's okay, you can eat from my plate, anytime."

One brow rises in a perfect arch. "Doubtful, but thank you for the offer."

They eat their fill until the crescent moon has full reign of the night sky, stars twinkling like diamonds on such a peaceful night.

At the back of the dining hall, the town bard is playing mellow tunes on his lute, his music enlivened by the dancers' tambourines. A number of the guildsmen have retired for the night but the torches on the wall are burning brighter than ever. Lounging at his decorative seat for the night, Ootsubo is flanked by twins - the lead performers in their dinner's entertainment. Beside him Kimura is chugging down beer, face flushed red, amber liquid spilling over his clothes. Miyaji is nowhere in sight.

Takao finishes off his (fourth serving of) pudding, spoon sticking out of his mouth. He leans back, arms supporting his weight as his crossed legs dangle over the tabletop.

Muffled snickering brings Midorima's attention away from his reading, he gives Takao a questioning look. He'd long given up on dissuading the huntsman from sitting at the table because - as Takao had put it - it's a great vantage point for swiping uneaten dessert.

"Hoshiko is drunk," Takao whispers connivingly. "He's trying to get into Aruegi's pants - er, bloomers." He pauses, deliberating. "You know what, I'm not sure."

Midorima's frown deepens. "Aruegi's choice of clothing can hardly be blamed for Hoshiko's actions. If anything, it's the alcohol."

From the other side of the room, a pained yelp is followed by stumbling footsteps as the sniper makes a (zig-zagging) run for his life.

"And a lack of self-preservation skills," Midorima concludes dryly, once again burying his nose in his reading.

"What're you reading, Shin-chan?" Takao cocks his head to the right, trying to see the cover.

"A pamphlet for a Magic-Users Convention this weekend," Midorima supplies, holding the material out of Takao's reach when the huntsman makes to get a hold on it.

Takao flexes his fingers, upper body arched over Midorima whose long reach trumps Takao's poor attempt. Green eyes stare up at him, unblinking over rimmed glasses, and not for the first time, Takao feels exposed. His arm starts to grow tired, suspended in midair, but Takao wants to hold on to the moment a little longer - it's not everyday that he gets to tower over Midorima, even if it is just circumstantial. "You should find a spell to make you grow smaller," Takao blurts out. "It's refreshing to have to look down on you." They're so close he could almost...

Midorima startles when Takao pets the top of his head. The huntsman's shadow falls over him, restricting his view and shielding him from the rest of the party. Unbidden, his eyes drift down from Takao's awkward smile to the collar bones peeking beneath his hood. His vision sinks towards the toned midriff, and the sculpted legs flaunted by Takao's short skirt. Midorima knows he's been caught staring when Takao's next words come in a whisper.

"Hey, Shin-chan…" Takao releases, Midorima's head; hand falling to grip the table's edge, supporting his recline. "Would you defend my honor if some drunk tries to feel me up?"

Takao must be teasing him, acting playful like he often does, the spoon is hanging out the corner of his quirked mouth. Midorima has a flashing thought of how sweet they must taste, with all the chocolate pudding the man has consumed. He forcibly halts his thoughts right there. The night is deepening but that is no excuse to let loose his morals.

The huntsman's frame sags further, exposing a smooth neck, sunkissed skin rendered gold by torchlights. Takao uncrosses his legs then re-crosses them, this time with the previously raised leg under the other.

Midorima hasn't consumed any alcohol but Takao's heat and proximity is starting to scramble his senses. He needs to retreat. And maybe reevaluate his life choices.

"I'm going to bed," Midorima announces, gently pushing Takao away with a hand on his chest.

Blinking, Takao's jaw goes slack. "B-But you didn't answer my question!" He sways to follow the wizard who has risen to his feet. "Shin-!"

Taking the spoon threatening to fall out of Takao's mouth, Midorima taps it on the shorter man's forehead, hoping to knock some sense into him. "You are very much capable in guarding your own honor, Takao," he states, leaning into the huntsman keep him from falling off the table. "Do yourself a favor and act your age."

In the background, the bard and his dancers begin another song. The tambourine beat lures unsteady feet to the makeshift dance floor. Flushed faces and carefree laughter join together, synchronizing with the strings' jostling rhythm.

He hears his heart pounding, thundering louder than any music. Takao's body is burning up. Having Midorima's breath blooming so close to his face isn't helping. And those eyes, those lashes, ugh. "Shin-chan…" _Why can't you just - Why can't I just -_ Takao closes his eyes, tucking his chin to his chest. His legs squeeze together tighter.

His first thought is that he has never seen this expression before. Not from Takao, and certainly not directed at him. Midorima absently sets the spoon on the table, his free hand now bracing his weight, cape fluttering to cover his folded posture. Something inexplicable roots him there, invading his partner's personal space. He breathes in, mentally listing all the ways this could go wrong. When he finds his voice, it's nothing but a whisper. "There is a time and place for everything, Takao."

"I know," Takao replies, subdued, surrendered. "I know."

Midorima wets his lips, resistance dwindling at the repressed longing he finds reflected in half-opened silver eyes. "Come with me."

He _really_ needs to reevaluate his life choices.

* * *

The bed dips with their weight, shadows cast into the farthest corners by the lamplight. Pale mist flurries as the lock clicks, sealing the room with the usual enchantments, sealing their fate.

Takao places a hand on Midorima's chest, feeling the pitter-patter of an anxious heart. Taped fingers smooth over his cheek, brushing under his eye then curling over the longer strands of hair framing his face.

"For the record," Midorima says, hushed. "If anyone dares to lay a hand on you without your consent…It will be the last thing they ever do. I will make certain of it."

Breath stuttering, Takao resists the urge to retreat. He stamps down on that flight or fight instinct because this right here could actually finally _mean_ something. "You know you have my consent, Shin-chan," he tries to keep light, but the weight of his statement nullifies that. "And I know there's a good reason why you brought me here."

"There is." Midorima supplicates his answer with a kiss, chaste and sure. With one hand, he unclasps his cape, with the other, he lifts Takao's face towards him. His senses hone in on the minute tremors of Takao's body and the chill of his own that's seeping out of every pore.

Is this no good? Is he doing it wrong?

The chaos in his mind is silenced when Takao responds, equal parts careful and daring. Skillful hands climb and loop around his neck, fingers threading into his hair.

The slow, even pace of their first kiss calms the blood that's roaring in his veins. Takao savors every press and pause, familiarizing himself with the brewing heat and feel and undeniability of this moment. There are noises - muffled and wanton - and then there are touches - gentle yet purposeful. He feels goosebumps rise under his touch. Sheepish, he rubs circles over the prickled skin.

Midorima's scalp is one of his more sensitive spots and, thanks to his build, it's one thing nobody would suspect - or attempt to take advantage of. But now he has Takao's fingers carding through his hair, coaxing him ever closer as those sweet lips open up to admit his tongue. The inside of Takao's mouth is just as hot, just as tense and sinful as his exterior, only wetter. Midorima wants to discover all its secrets, wants to learn the rest about the man he calls partner - or is it now lover?

It's almost automatic, the way his legs splay out when Midorima tips the both of them down to the mattress, accommodating as always. Takao's skirt rides up as he bends one leg, getting comfortable with the weight of Midorima pressing down on him.

The protective taping around his fingers are now a hindrance, Midorima discovers halfway through his journey up Takao's stocking-clad leg. He groans - half annoyed, half aroused - as Takao rakes a hand through his bangs, lightly tugging at green locks, caressing all the way down to his nape.

He couldn't help the chuckle that resounds when their lips break apart. Takao hasn't made out for that long since his eager teenage years. The dip between Midorima's brows are endearing to him now more than ever, he presses a quick kiss to it, adoring the responding blush. His heart is racing - and he can feel that Midorima's is, too - but he feels no rush, rather, he wants to make every moment, every second of this last. "Hey, Shin-chan," he says, surprising even himself with the tenderness in his tone. "Was this what you meant? All those late nights you snootily told me to get to bed?"

Midorima's nose twitched in annoyance. "No. How presumptuous of you."

"Oh, so this is a spur-of-the-moment thing?" Takao's eyelids lower half-way, lip curling deviously. He twirls a green lock of hair around his finger, playing coy until he catches the deepening blush on Midorima's cheeks, the faltering breaths. _Oh, hey._

"I…" Midorima takes a second to compose himself. "I was waiting for the proper time to act upon my… predilections."

"Mm-hm, that's nice," Takao murmurs, fingers gliding down Midorima's jaw. "Though, you do realize we'll be having anniversary sex on the night of Ootsubo's birthday from now on."

The wizard's sudden pallor is striking. Takao's fit of giggles doesn't alleviate the situation.

"You should've seen your face, oh wow." Takao wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, arms dropping aimlessly on the mattress.

This is one of those times Midorima has to ask himself why he even bothers, why he feels so strongly for this impossible man before him, why can things never be easy. Then Takao smiles up at him, effortless and real, and Midorima finds his answer. He drops a kiss on those enticing lips, pulling back with a smile at Takao's stunned silence. "I think I've just found the most effective way to silence your insufferable babbling."

It's Takao's turn to blush. He blinks, lips tingling. He has never seen Midorima look so accomplished… except maybe that one time he made a one-hit kill with his new spell but that isn't the point. He cups Midorima's face just to make sure he isn't dreaming, pulling the wizard unto him for another kiss - his own prayers, answered. Midorima's breath is hot against his lips, and it's only when the body above him trembles with it does Takao realize it's a yawn. A responding one is already building up within himself. "Sleepy?" he asks by way of letting it out.

"Apologies," Midorima mutters, slowly inching himself off Takao. "I have a strict bedtime schedule."

"I know." Takao follows him up until they're both sitting, facing each other much like they did when they first entered the room. "Want me to tuck you in?"

Because rolling his eyes is far below him, Midorima settles with scoffing. "Please." He adjusts his glasses. "I would not, however, be adverse to you staying the night."

Takao's room is just down the hall. The huntsman smiles. "I'd love to."

* * *

Midorima wakes right at the break of dawn, blinking blearily at the first rays of sunlight that slip through the folds of his draperies. The rest of the fort is still asleep, save for the night guards who must retain their posts until a reliever comes. He reaches for his glasses at the bedside table, stopping when he finds another sleeper in his bed.

Takao is resting on his side, arms folded to his chest, fingers peeking out of the over-sized sleeves. His breathing is untroubled, strands of hair falling over his serene expression.

 _So that's where the pajama top went_ , is Midorima's first thought, braving the cool morning air assaulting his naked skin. He pinches the bridge of his nose, composing his sermon to Takao about using other people's clothes without their permission when it hits him. His heart skips a beat and heat swarms his body.

A sleepy grumble comes from the huntsman and Midorima's body goes on lockdown, not daring to move a single finger. While his exterior goes still, his heart starts racing a mile a minute, thoughts jumbling together in their haste to deliver and process information. His breath catches when Takao shifts, the back of one hand falling against his chest, right over his heart.

"Shin-chan..." Takao mumbles in a voice heavily laced with sleep. "I can hear you panicking." Wrinkles form at the corner of his eyes, unwilling to open them until his proper wake-up time. "Go back to sleep."

"I - I wasn't…" Midorima zips his mouth, coming to terms with the futility of his argument. He holds back a sigh. "I'm sorry for waking you, then."

"'s not you," Takao answers in between minute yawns. "Jus' a force of habit…" Having to camp in the wilderness hones a person's survival instincts - a skill that has saved his ass more than once. He proceeds to drape an arm across Midorima's bare torso, getting comfortable to resume his sleep.

"Takao, I have to get up."

"Shh."

"I have to insist-."

"Mm, no."

"Unhand me this instant!"

A silver eye opens. Takao's expression grows dark. "Don't test my love for you so early in the morning, Shin-chan. We are going to stay in bed and cuddle on our first morning together and you are going to like it."

Midorima blinks at him and then turns pensive. "I always assumed you'd be a morning person."

"Surprise," Takao mutters, closing his eye and snuggling closer to Midorima.

Finding no viable option that does not involve magicking the huntsman off him, Midorima settles back and lets Takao use his shoulder as a pillow. He brushes away the bangs that obstruct his view of Takao's contented smile, wondering why he feels so oddly happy being rendered powerless like this.

Seven in the morning is what Takao deems an acceptable time to wake. He stifles a yawn behind his hand, rubbing the crusts off his eyes and taking in his surroundings. Everything is the same as he remembers, including the wizard whose arm is curled over his back and waist. "G'morning, Shin-chan," he greets, docile with a hint of his usual exuberant self trimming the edges.

Midorima leans in to kiss Takao on the forehead. "Good morning, Takao."

* * *

 

**END**

* * *


End file.
